


hang the dj

by salacious



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25572820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salacious/pseuds/salacious
Summary: A collection of unrelated SteveNat one-shots for fics that I've written, will write, or decided not to, but liked the scene too much to delete.i. co-CEOsii. post-IW battleiii. boss/secretaryiv. dating best friend's younger sisterv. post-lemurian star angstvi. burlesque dancer & detective
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 79
Kudos: 145





	1. i. co-CEOs

**Author's Note:**

> i. co-CEOs. 
> 
> Steve and Natasha are forced to work together when their parents merge their companies. What starts off as a hateful relationship - (Steve confuses Natasha for a model, and offended that her future partner couldn't take the time of day to research on his future co-CEO, she decides that he's an imbecile) blossoms into a passionate love affair.
> 
> In this scene, Natasha shows Steve one of the pieces she and Wanda have worked on for the company's lingerie line. It gets steamy, but I don't write out what wicked things they do on that desk (;
> 
> xx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i. co-CEOs. 
> 
> Steve and Natasha are forced to work together when their parents merge their companies. What starts off as a hateful relationship - (Steve confuses Natasha for a model, and offended that her future partner couldn't take the time of day to research on his future co-CEO, she decides that he's an imbecile) blossoms into a passionate love affair.
> 
> In this scene, Natasha shows Steve one of the pieces she and Wanda have worked on for the company's lingerie line. It gets steamy, but I don't write out what wicked things they do on that desk (;
> 
> xx

Natasha knocked on his door softly before entering his office. They were both staying in late to finish reviewing some new contracts with vendors and she found herself wandering into the lingerie closet in the floor below. Her intentions had started out pure, but quickly changed into something much more wicked when she thought about the little bit of fun they could have if they just took a short break.

Steve smiled up at her warily. He had pulled his tie off, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt to reveal a little bit of muscled skin, and had probably run his fingers through his hair more than usual. Staying in late at the office really stressed him out.

“Hey,” Her heels clacked loudly against the floor before being muted by the carpet around his desk area. “How’s it going over here?”

He shrugged, pushing his chair back a bit to give her some space to sit on his desk. “I have about five more pages of boring paragraphs to go over.”

When she sat in front of him, her skirt slid up a bit, revealing the little mole on her thigh that he absolutely adored. He placed his warm hand on her leg, brushing his thumb over the little birthmark and she smiled at him sweetly. “Think you can squeeze in some time for me?”

His hand caressed the visible skin, gently, kneading it softly as if hinting at all the promising things he could do with his hands. “I will always have time for you.”

“Okay.” She bit her bottom lip, leaning forward to kiss his lips. The kiss was short and sweet, chaste and innocent compared to all the wicked thoughts swirling her mind. “You know how I stayed behind to look over some of the designs Wanda sent in?”

“Mm,” he hummed in response, licking his bottom lip to savour the sweet taste of her strawberry lip balm.

Natasha eyed his distracted expression, loving how enraptured he was by the little mole. He truly did love that thing. “I think I have a favourite.”

Steve tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow as he tried to figure out where the conversation was headed. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, “I think you'd really like it, too.”

Before he could say anything else, she slid off the desk and straddled his lap. Her skirt hiked further up her legs, bunching around her waist with the guidance of his oh-so-helpful hands. A low, guttural moan escaped his mouth as she began to press her heat against his hardening erection. Her fingers slid through his hair, tugging at it gently as she continued grinding her hips against his.

He groaned again, low and needy and _sexy_. His scruff scratched her cheek, but she just kissed him harder, swiping her tongue into his mouth and tried to coax his out by sucking on it gently. His hands slid up her thighs, stopping at the waistband of her pencil skirt and he squeezed them over her ass. He squeezed tightly, making her moan softly against his lip.

A sexy smirk spread on his lips as he watched her arch her back, trying to increase the friction between their carnal intimacy and he squeezed her ass harder, grinding her against him with a bit more force. He'd probably have a wet stain by the time they finish dry humping like a pair of horny teenagers, but that's exactly what she turned him into. A sex depraved man willing to kneel at her feet and pleasure her for the rest of their lives if only she asked.

His mouth began to press teasing kisses down her throat, nibbling at her soft spot and running long, languid licks down her throat. Natasha gasped, her hand pressing against the back of his head as she pulled him closer and she threw her head back, biting down on her bottom lip. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” He growled out, panting as need began to cloud his thoughts.

She smirked; the sexy little smile reserved just for him. “What are you doing to do about it?”

Steve chuckled and quickly stood up from his seat. She wrapped her legs around his waist automatically, almost like the position had become second nature to them, and he sat her on his desk. “I will be lending you my suit jacket.” She raised her eyebrow in an unspoken question, and he smiled wickedly. “Unless you prefer walking out of this office naked.”

She let out a sexy little laugh, her red curls bouncing around her shoulders as her entire body trembled in happiness. Instead of keeping to his initial intentions, he began to unbutton her blouse, loving the annoyed huff that left her lips as she realised he wasn't going to rip her clothes off.

As soon as the first three buttons came off, he was able to see why she had entered his office like she planned to seduce some answers out of him. Underneath her white blouse was a beautiful lace bra. The fabric was seethrough with cute little flower designs hiding her pink nipples. His breathing hitched in his throat as he quickly pushed her shirt off and almost yanked the skirt down her legs.

“Jesus, Nat...” His voice was raspy, almost unrecognisable.

“Do you like it?” She whispered, nibbling on her lip demurely.

His fingers ran over the soft fabric of her matching panties and he groaned. This was _not_ what she was wearing this morning. He knew, he almost begged her not to get dressed and just stay with him in bed all day. Responsibilities be damned. “Fuck, baby, you look so goddamn beautiful.”

A beautiful smile blossomed on her face and he gulped loudly. “Is this one of ours?”

She nodded. “Wanda let me take it. Something along the lines of making sure the male mind reacts to it correctly.”

Steve smirked. “Tell Wanda that if she keeps letting you model the designs for me, I may put in a good word for a raise.”

Natasha laughed, chiming and captivating. “I'll be sure to relay the message, Mr. Rogers.”

“This fabric is so fucking soft,” he admired, “does it itch or bother you anywhere?”

She shook her head and lifted her leg to wrap it around his waist. “But I know that it was intended to be taken off.”

“Don't mind if I do,” He muttered before kissing her sweetly again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took the plunge. I have a million scenes that I wrote for my favourite OTP that I haven't published because I'm an idiot that can't write one-shots without wanting to turn them into huge things. 
> 
> So, I decided to post this to share scenes I've written because I got encouraged by a really amazing person (love you Beca) and yeah. These are mostly unedited, but I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> xx


	2. ii. post-IW battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right after Thanos snaps half of the world away, Steve and Natasha find solace in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This was intended to be smut. Really it was, but I never finished it because I got discouraged. MCU-Canon SteveNat really intimidates me, I feel like I can't portray them correctly and I psych myself out, so I never finish it. Besides, there's a lot of post-snap fics that were done really well and I didn't want to re-write what other people also thought of.
> 
> Anyway, I apologise for not finishing the smut, but maybe I'll get the courage to finish it and repost it! :D
> 
> xx

Steve was standing by the window with his arms limply against his sides when Natasha walked in. He had a defeated look to his eyes, a numb expression on his face as he looked out at the Wakandan fields.

Even after hours of searching for survivors, some soldiers still refused to give up. Family members, friends, lovers, neighbours – _people_ just disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving those behind utterly devastated.

“Hey there, soldier.” Natasha smiled, a small forced smile to assure anyone that could be watching that she had a handle on things.

Steve merely turned his head to the side, not responding verbally. His eyes were hollow, now devoid of emotion as she stood in front of him. The glint he always had disappeared and left behind a void.

She winced at his expression, knowing the pain he must’ve been feeling. She just wanted to wipe it away, replace the pain with anything else. She would sacrifice herself just to see him smile, to return his best friend. If only she could, she would do it in a heartbeat.

“Hey,” She whispered, this time the forced joking tone replaced by sympathy. “How about we get you out of these? Take a shower and get comfortable?”

Steve looked at her, his eyes staring into hers, but they weren’t focused. It was almost like he was in a daze and couldn’t understand what she was actually saying. His face was dirty, smudges of grime across his cheekbones and forehead. His hair was ruffled, as if he had run his fingers through it and pulled it every other second.

Natasha frowned, taking a hesitant step closer and he blinked, finally realising _who_ she was. This was entirely different from the man down at the battlefield that composed himself immediately after they realised people were disappearing into the wind.

That man had ordered search parties and kept himself in charge. Now that they were alone, it was like that man had disappeared with the rest of the missing people and left behind an empty walking shell of Steve Rogers. Like they had taken _her_ Steve.

“Steve?”

His voice was gruff and low when he responded. “He’s gone. They’re _all_ gone.”

“Steve…”

“There was nothing I could do,” he breathed out, eyes becoming emotionless once more as he ignored her soft attempts at comforting him.

Natasha grimaced, nodding. “I know what you’re feeling right now, but it’s not your fault.”

“You don’t.” He shook his head, his jaw muscles tightening as he gritted his teeth.

She frowned, letting her hand fall back to her side. “Steve, I _do_ -”

“No!” He snapped, eyes angry as he glared down at her. “You _don’t_. A person that understands what _I’m_ feeling would be showing it!”

Natasha recoiled, stepping back just to avoid being _too_ close. The hurt in her eyes was evident, it flashed through them and it was gone in a second. Had he not known her the way he did, he wouldn’t have been able to pick it up.

He immediately regretted the words; the second they came out, he knew he had fucked up. But god _dammit_ , he was hurt!

“What?” She raised an eyebrow, her voice soft. It was the Black Widow voice, full of venom and devoid of any emotion. “Because I’m not acting like an emotional wreck, I’m not in pain? Because I’m the Black Widow, I don’t have emotions? I was an assassin, not a goddamn robot!”

“Nat-”

“You think you’re the only one in pain? The only one that is mourning? Sorry to burst your bubble, Rogers, but the rest of the world is feeling the same fucking thing! What?” She seethed, her cheeks reddening in absolute fury. “Did you forget about Clint? About his _family_?!”

A staggered breath puffed out of her as her fiery eyes watered, “I, _we_ , have no idea what happened to them. We don’t know if they disappeared, too! What if any of the kids are alone because their parents or siblings disappeared? What if-” Her voice cracked, the moment of vulnerability overbearing her, “what if the only people that ever loved me unconditionally disappear because _I_ couldn’t fight hard enough?!”

“Nat,” His voice was soft – _her_ Steve was back. “God,” he groaned, “Natasha, I’m so sorry.” He stepped toward her, tentatively, fully knowing that she could break his wrist if she wanted to, and, quite frankly, he deserved it after the shit he said. “So sorry, Nat. I didn’t…I wasn’t…”

“You’re not the only one hurting.” A tear rolled down her cheek, leaving behind a golden trail as it rolled down her dirt-stained face. Her voice was soft again, the anger dissipating after she acknowledged her fears aloud.

Steve slowly wrapped his arms around her, embracing her tightly. He bowed his head, pulling her closer to him and murmured his apologies over and over again.

“The only people who ever loved me unconditionally could be missing and there’s no way I’ll be able to find out for now. So, yes, Steve. I _understand_ the pain. It might be a different pain, but I still understand.”

He pulled back, placing his hands against her face and brushed a tear away with his thumb. He bowed his head, trying to lessen the distance between them and gently kissed her forehead. “They’re not the only ones who love you unconditionally, Natasha.”

She stiffened against his hold, gulping as her eyes stared deep into his. It was true, his emotions were always so easy to read and _dammit_ , did she love how much he _loved_ her. _He_ loved _her_. When she thought she would never be worthy of anyone’s affections, he proved her wrong and he loved her with every fibre of his being.

“It’s true,” he murmured gently, caressing the corner of her cheek gently with his thumbs, “I love you _unconditionally_ and any other way there is. I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it. I know everyone has different ways to cope with grief, but I was just _so_ lost.” He cleared his throat. “It doesn’t excuse what I said, though, and I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Natasha relaxed against him, practically melting into his embrace. He had totally broken down her walls, ripped away her mask and left her feeling a strange type of vulnerable. She had hidden behind her Black Widow persona so much, that she didn’t know _who_ to be without the name. Steve taught her that there was so much more to her than the rumours and reputation; he made Black Widow vulnerable but made _Natasha Romanoff_ so much stronger.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated for the hundredth time, genuinely sounding remorseful.

“It’s fine,” she murmured, closing her eyes as she listened to the steady beat of his heart.

“Don’t say is fine, Nat,” He groaned, annoyed. “It’s not _fine_. Just accept my apology.”

She sighed, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulled him closer. “I accept your apology.” Her voice was muffled against his chest. “But if you ever pull something like that again, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

That got a small smile out of him.

“Let’s take a shower.”

“Together?”

He nodded, taking her hand and led her to his bedroom.

Natasha helped him out of his suit quietly, expertly. After all the times they had undressed each other, she could do it with her eyes closed – maybe with a hand tied behind her back, too. She grimaced at the fading bruises on his muscled back. They probably weren’t hurting him at all, he probably didn’t even know he had them, but it still made her feel _things_.

Her fingers brushed the plane of his back, over the muscles and Steve froze against her touch. It was so gentle and caring, it felt _nice_. However, for a slight second, it filled him with an irrational fear of _this is all fake, part of my mind trying to cope with everything that happened_ – and Natasha could tell.

She stepped forward, squeezing her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his skin. The palms of her hands pressed against his abdomen and he entwined his fingers with hers, squeezing them as if to anchor himself to reality – to _her_.

“Let’s get in the shower,” she murmured softly, slowly pulling away.

Steve finished undressing and turned to help her out of the catsuit. His eyes immediately focused on the dark bruises across her arms and he lifted them to his face. His lips pressed gently to the discolourations and she smiled, realising that he was doing the same thing she had been doing to him.

_She’s real. She’s real. She’s_ real _._ It was the only thing running through his mind as he looked at the bruises. She was there. She hadn’t disappeared. She wasn’t a mirage, a sick joke his mind was playing on him.

Natasha smiled at him, pressing her fingers against his cheek as he kissed her. “Come on, soldier, get in the shower. You smell.”

He went in after her, his moves were a bit robotic as he watched her turn on the faucet. The cool water quickly turned warm and she closed her eyes as it began to fall over her body. She pushed her hair back, wiping her hands against her face as she tried to wipe away the grime and opened her eyes to catch Steve admiring her with a strange emotion in his eyes.

She flashed him a close-lipped smile and turned back to the wall to enjoy the water against her body a little more. He took a small step toward her and she quickly melted her body against his when he hugged her.

They stood under the showerhead for a few minutes, just holding each other in silence while the water slid between their bodies. Natasha turned around to press her face against his chest and sighed as she listened to his steady heartbeat.

Steve bowed his head, squeezing her closer to him and she slid her hands up the plane of his shoulders to the nape of his neck. Her touch was gentle and warm, caring. It was grounding him, keeping the reality of what they just endured away for the moment. She was his distraction and he needed her then more than ever.

Their lips met in a soft caress, almost a whisper of skin against skin and she felt her entire body relaxing at the buzzing sensation he gave her. The kiss was sweet and soft, just lips pressed together in a gentle showcase of emotions.

Natasha pulled back, caressing his cheek gently and he shifted his head to kiss her hand gently and she smiled. She turned to grab the shampoo and turned the faucet off as she began to wash her hair.

“Allow me,” Steve murmured, sounding just as gallantly as he looked with his fingers in her shampooed curls. His fingers massaged her scalp tenderly and she closed her eyes, leaning her back against his body.

Once he finished, she returned the favour, loving the way the soaps seemed to not only wash away his grime but also fill his eyes with emotions she recognised. His gaze was tender, loving and so appreciative of what she was doing; that she was _alive_.

His hands gently squeezed and massaged at her shoulders, washing away the sweat and dirt from her body. The touches began tender and reassuring but quickly began to shift into the more sexual part of their relationship.

When his hands brushed over her breasts, against her nipples, she couldn’t control her body’s reaction. Steve licked his lips, kneading her breasts gently and stared down at her with dark eyes.

“Sorry-”

Before she could apologise for becoming aroused in such a… _serious_ moment, Steve captured her lips with his. “Don’t be sorry,” he murmured, his kisses increasing in desperation, “don’t _ever_ be sorry for this.”

Part of her felt guilty. She knew he was hurting and the last thing on her mind had been sex, but it seemed that her body wanted other things. It remembered the way his hands explored every crook and sensitive area that loved responding to his touches.

He kissed her harder, his teeth biting on her bottom lip to elicit a gasped moan. It was low and barely audible, but it managed to awaken that primal part of him that _loved_ to make her writhe under him in pleasure. This was something he was familiar with, something he knew couldn’t be faked.

“Steve…” She whispered out hoarsely, unsure of what to do next. She didn’t want to use him, confuse his feelings any further.

Understanding the unspoken question, Steve pulled back and stared at her with lust-filled eyes. “Please,” He gulped, his tongue darting out to slide over his lip, “I-I _need_ this.” He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing heavily. “I need _you_.”

“Okay,” she whispered, nodding as she pushed away the guilt to allow herself to become engulfed by the passion sizzling between them.

He kissed her again, his teeth grazing her bottom lip as he tugged at it sexily. “I need to feel something other than despair.”

Natasha nodded again, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him quiet. She didn’t need to be coaxed into having sex. Hell, all he had to do was flash her the little wicked grin he mastered, and she was seconds away from turning into a puddle of desire and need.

Steve moaned into her mouth, loving the feel of her tongue sliding against his sensually. Her fingers entwined into his hair, tugging at it – at first gently and then harder in desperation. She needed him just as much as he needed her.

This was a good distraction, it was carnal and primal. One of the most basic emotions they could feel and share intimately. It was a safe way to keep the brain full of endorphins and oxytocin instead of focusing on the low levels of serotonin.

His erection brushed against her stomach as he pinned her against the wall. It was hard and leaking pre-cum. Usually, she would kneel and lick every drop because who in their right mind would ever waste a drop of _Steve Rogers_ , but it seemed that Steve didn’t want the foreplay today.

He wanted to fuck her fast and hard. The type of fuck that left behind bruises and red scratch marks because they lost themselves in the instinctual passion.

Natasha groaned, biting her bottom lip hard when he began to suckle her neck. He darted his tongue out occasionally, teasing the skin he would bite as his fingers roamed over her body. He was strumming her body in such a way that she couldn’t concentrate on just one thing.

One second his mouth was sucking the hollow of her collarbone, the next it was sliding down to her breasts and then it was nibbling on her sensitive nipples. His hands kept squeezing and rubbing her responsive areas; her breasts and ass, anywhere he could reach in his state of desperation.

She reached out to turn the faucet off because the hot water was beginning to make her dizzy. It was either that or the way his fingers were rubbing her slick centre quickly. He was coaxing out her orgasms, almost forcing them to topple over each other and leave her body trembling against him.


	3. iii. boss/secretary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> iii. boss/secretary
> 
> In this AU, Steve goes from not knowing anything about Natasha, to spending what would have been a romantic vacation with his ex, with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> |in this AU there would be the cliche one bed, “Welcome Mr and Mrs Rogers!” “Oh, we’re not-“ and all that good stuff that could happen in a romantic getaway at the beach!|
> 
> Sorry for the format of this one, I wrote it on my notes app and was too lazy to fix it.

Steve doesn’t know much about his personal assistant — and it’s mostly weird because he considers himself to be a pretty involved boss.

He knows Darcy just got engaged to a guy from the temp floor and that they had met during an incident in the copier room (he didn’t want to know _what_ kind of incident it was.)

He knows that Laura, from accounting, just gave birth to her second child and that it was a baby girl. Lila was her given name.

And he knows that Phil from the sales department just got done with a nasty divorce.

So, all in all, he considered himself to be _present_ ; he didn’t intrude in their lives, but he did pay attention when they talked to him or sent him emails explaining their absences or late starts. Those details went to HR, but he made it a point to let them know to copy him in those emails.

But his personal assistant? She was a complete mystery to him.

He knew the basics, the details listed in her resume and from that, he knew that she was completely overqualified to be his personal assistant.

She spoke _seven_ languages and had been in charge of the marketing department over at Hammer Industries for two years before she quit.

Tony, his partner, tried to convince him to extract the HR documents explaining her sudden departure from the company, but Steve quite frankly, didn’t care.

For two days she was unemployed and then worked at a coffee shop for seven months before she applied to work at Stark Industries.

Sometimes he felt that she had more experience than _him_. She was subtle and respectful when she suggested changes in his presentations or when she offered ideas, but Steve would be an absolute idiot not to take her suggestions.

Her legal name was Natasha Romanova, but she preferred the anglicised version of her last name. He was sure that there was an explanation for that, a story for it, but she never said why and he never asked.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t know anything about her.

It’s not like he wanted to be a creep or stick his nose in her business, but she had been working for him for the past three months and they never spoke more than a few cordial words.

It was strange for him, the dynamic. His previous assistant, Daisy, had been more talkative and a little more at ease. That’s not to say that he didn’t like Natasha, he just wished that he could make her feel comfortable at her job. That he could reassure her that she was amazing at what she did and that he was thankful that she was in his life.

Daisy had been a good worker, but Natasha knew what he wanted or needed before he even knew. It was uncanny, sometimes he wondered if she could read minds.

The phone ringing on his desk startled him out of his thoughts.

It was Natasha’s line.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers.” Natasha’s voice is soft and she sounds somewhat tired, “Ms. Sharon is in line one for you. She’d like to know if you’re still meeting up for lunch today.”

Steve sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly and leaned back into his leather chair. He was having lunch with Sharon to finalise their unofficial divorce.

They weren’t married, but they had lived together for a few years. Enough that she needed to move her things out of their apartment and sign the termination of their lease.

After she was done, he’d move out too. He had spent the majority of this past week looking for places to move in to because as amiable as their relationship ended, the last thing Steve wanted to do was live in an apartment where he slowly watched his relationship fizzle out.

Sharon had been a great partner, but they knew they were settling for each other. They weren’t happy, they just lived through the motions. The sex had stopped about a yearago and it’s not like that was the core of a relationship, but it was a pretty clear sign that they just didn’t want to be together anymore.

“Sir?”

Steve blinked, pulling at his tie and cleared his throat. “Yeah, tell her I’ll be there.”

“Okay, thank you.” She’s about to hang up.

“Natasha?”

“Yes, sir?”

He pauses briefly. “When’s your birthday?”

If his door wasn’t closed, he’d probably be able to see her frowning. She had this habit of furrowing her brows cutely when she didn’t understand something and she’d gnaw on her bottom lip until it was red and raw.

Natasha hesitated, obviously caught off guard by his question. “November 22nd.”

He smiles. “Thank you.”


	4. iv. dating best friend's younger sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> iv. dating best friend's younger sister
> 
> Steve and Natasha begin a secret relationship after he returns from a deployment with Clint.
> 
> This one is going to be a little weird because it's written in snippets? But I posted a pretty long "summary" of the story so the snippets can make a little more sense! :)
> 
> As I compiled everything I wrote, I got lowkey pissed at myself for not writing this one because it was so fun to plan!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve, Bucky, Sam and Clint have been best friends since high school. Right after graduating, they all decided to join the military and further deepen their brotherly bond. Nearly twelve years after service, Clint decides to retire and heads home. Thing is, he doesn't really have a place to stay, so until he finds a place, he decides to crash on Natasha's - his younger sister's - couch.
> 
> Not only will Clint take up her couch, he also brings Steve along without telling her.
> 
> And, she honestly wouldn't mind if he had brought Bucky or Sam, but Clint just _had_ to bring Steve.
> 
> The guy that stuck gum in her hair and made fun of her when her mom had to cut off her pretty red curls.
> 
> The guy that called her "Bartok" because " _you look nothing like Anastasia, your nose is more like Bartok's_."
> 
> The guy that was her first kiss at a stupid seven-minutes-in-heaven game her senior year of high school.
> 
> The guy that she absolutely _loathed_.
> 
> As much as she wants to punch him, she decides that she's got a handle on things. She's 25, she looks nothing like the lanky little girl with braces he remembers, and she's _mature_ now _._
> 
> Then he walks down the damned departure gate at the airport in his stupid uniform looking like he should just be walking the fucking runway and _calls her Bartok!_ As if she wasn't his ride out of the damned place.
> 
> She decides that maybe age doesn't determine maturity because Steve Rogers is still the same stupid idiot she remembers.
> 
> And then she sees Alexei, her ex, at the supermarket, and she's really not sure why she's trying to hide from him because _she_ broke up with him, but all she knows is that she's pinning Steve Rogers to the cereal boxes in the supermarket, kissing him _very, very_ inappropriately. 
> 
> To make matters worst, she has _no_ idea how they end up in her bed.
> 
> All she knows is that she still hates him.

“God, I hate you so goddamned much.” She pants against his mouth, digging her fingers into his shirt and tries to rip it open. It didn't do much, but she was desperate to get naked and under him, and his freaking clothes were in the way.

"Feeling's mutual, Romanoff." Steve lifts her from the ground, nearly tripping over the shoe she kicks off and kneads her ass. He groans, sucking on her bottom lip as he walks them over to her room and she grinds against his as best as she can, and _oh._

_Oh, this was definitely a good call, Natasha._

The bulge in his pants feels delicious and she moans, trying to increase the friction between them. 

He kisses down her throat, nipping at the sensitive skin below her ear and she lets out a sound that has him wanting to drop to his knees right there. This woman would be the death of him. His dick feels like it's going to burst in his pants and all they've done is dry-hump like a pair of inexperienced teenagers.

Yet, as she grips him through his jeans and bites down on his bottom lip, he can tell that there will be _nothing_ inexperienced about being with Natasha.

"Jesus, fuck, if you don't get your dick out of your jeans and in me right now, I swear to god, I'll-"

Steve moves his hand between her legs, brushing his fingers along her heat and she lets out a sound that _shouldn't_ be sexy but leaves him grunting just to make her do it again. "You'll what?" His voice is deep, full of lust and desire that has her breath hitching in her throat and her fingers gripping his hair tightly. "Mm?" He licks a languid trail down her throat and with his other hand grabs her breast, kneading it while simultaneously rubbing through her panties.

"I'll-" She chokes out when his finger slides past her underwear and he's touching her right _there._ God, it shouldn't feel so good, but it does.

His fingers are cold and rough, calloused, and the moment they slip between her pussy lips, she swears she sees stars dancing behind her closed eyes.

Steve watches as she drops her head back, groaning and bites her bottom lip sexily.

"What're you gonna do?" He whispers huskily, pinning her to the wall inside her bedroom because suddenly the bed seems too far away. 

He manages to slide his index finger in, knuckle deep and the moment his brushes against her clit, she's a shivering mess in his arms.

The fucker made her cum with just _one_ finger.

Her fingers dug into his shoulder, squeezing the muscle as she rode out her orgasm and she stood on her tiptoes, letting the wave ride through her body deliciously. It had been so damn long since she felt that - not that she'd ever tell him, but _fuck,_ they should've done this the first night he got there.

Watching her cum shouldn't have been as sexy as it was, it really shouldn't, but Steve couldn't help himself. Her face became flushed, her lips red and swollen, and she made these _sounds._ He was practically mesmerised.

When her eyes opened, the green in them was so dark and full of desire that he found himself completely and utterly under her spell.

He swore hotly under his breath and kissed her as if they had just invented it. He lifted her from the ground again and made his way to her bed. He dropped her, making a huffing sound escape her lips and he yanked his shirt over his head. She grinned, staring up at him rather dazedly (the orgasm was good, okay?!) and bit her bottom lip as she admired the view.

Steve quickly pushed his jeans down and climbed over her. Natasha spread her legs and wrapped one around his back, pulling him in closer. She reached up, pulling him down by his neck and kissed him, licking into his mouth like a starved woman.

"For the record," she panted between kisses, "I still hate you."

He laughs and in one swift movement rips her panties off. Before she can protest, his mouth is against hers and then down her throat, down her chest, capturing a nipple and she's arching her back off the bed, writhing under him in pleasure.

...

Steve is panting, his chest rising quickly as he falls on his side, next to her. They really should have done that days ago. Hell, years ago.

His back was burning from the scratches she left and he loved it.

She turns on her side, sliding her leg between his and huskily whispers. "Still hate you."

He laughs again. That was really starting to become her thing.

Steve turns his head to the side, to look at her and throatily asks, "Wanna go again?"

The wicked grin that grew on her mouth was tantalisingly dangerous. He reached up to brush his thumb against her bottom lip and she darted her tongue out, grabbing his wrist to take his thumb into her mouth. She sucks on it lewdly and his eyes darken. "What do you think?" 

* * *

“Call me Bartok one more time and you’ll _never_ touch me again.”

“But-“

“ _Ever_.”

* * *

Natasha walks up to him, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and nuzzles her nose down the side of his neck. He tilts his head to the side, nudging her with his nose so she kisses him and she grins against his mouth. "Looking for apartments?"

"Mm," he nods, holding the iPad up for her to see his search on Zillow, "need one with windows that overlook the city.”

Her brows furrow and she trails her fingers down his sculpted chest absentmindedly. “That’s weirdly specific of you.”

“Want to fuck you against them,” he murmurs, eyeing her with dark eyes before pulling her over the couch to sit her on his lap.

* * *

Clint returned a few minutes later. He knocked on the counter, looking away from the kitchen and called out, “Everybody decent in here?”

Steve rolled his eyes, a playful smirk curling at his lips. “It’s just me.”

Clint sighed loudly, more for show than anything, but was still relieved to know that the image burnt in his mind wasn’t playing live again.

“Nat’s showering,” the blond murmured, scrubbing the plates in the sink.

“Thank god. Next time give a guy a warning, y’know? At this age, I’m due for a heart attack at any moment.”

“You’re 31,” Steve reminded him, his tone very sarcastic and playful.

“Okay,” Clint cleared his throat, “let me rephrase that. At this age, with _you_ sucking the living daylights out of my little sister, I’m due for cardiac arrest.”

He huffed out a laugh, knowing that Clint wasn’t really mad, but still curious as to _why_ he wasn’t mad. Not that he was a dick or that he’d ever hurt Natasha, but she was still his _little_ sister. As he so graciously reminded him every second.

After a while of comfortable silence, Steve cleared his throat and turned to him with a bit of a shy expression. He was cautious, Clint was his best friend and he would take a bullet for him any day, but Natasha...god, the way she made him feel – well, he worried it would ruin their friendship.

“Are you okay...with this?” His voice was hoarse, a timbre of seriousness between them that was usually reserved for mission discussions. And even then, they managed to insert inappropriate jokes in the mess.

Clint raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter with a rather crappy innocent expression on his face. “Okay with...?”

Steve gave him a sour look, one that made Clint straighten his back, but his voice still held the playful tone to it. “Am I okay with you and my little sister fornicating on the blessed house of the good kitchen lord?”

“Oh my god,” Steve groaned, eyes rolling in mock annoyance.

It made Clint laugh, though. He was silent for a second, trying to think of the best way to word his thoughts on their lives. Not that it _really_ mattered. Yes, Natasha was his “little” sister, but she was a grown woman, completely capable of making her own decisions and it didn’t matter what he thought about their unusual...situation.

“Do you remember that OP in Nicaragua? The one where Wilson got the shits and you were out cold from the fever?”

Steve nodded, eyebrows pushing together in a frown as he tried to think about what that had to do with him and Natasha. “Bucky complained about sharing a tent with him the rest of the OP, something about becoming contaminated or whatever.”

Clint chuckled at the memory of their friends and nodded. “The first night you got the fever we thought you were going to die. Hell, Bucky was ready to give Fury hell for leaving us in the middle of the goddamn rainforest. I was too,” he grinned, “got ready to ruin the entire OP just to make sure you’d be okay.”

He paused, then continued. “That first night...you started talking in your sleep. At first, it was stupid shit, like the Mets losing to the Cubs or some aliens invading New York. Stupid shit, you know? But then...” Clint sighed, the humorous tone of his voice gone, replaced by reverence and almost...respect. “Then you mentioned Tasha. You started to whine like a little bitch about her and I didn’t understand one word you said. You were muttering and tossing, sweating like a goddamn pig. And then you sort of came about, looked me right in the eye and began to apologise.”

Steve frowned, ransacking his brain for any recollection of that night. He remembered the fever and most of them getting sick from the contaminated water, but he didn’t remember what he said. And Clint had just waved him off when he asked if he said anything stupid.

Guess he really did fuck up.

“You, uh, you told me that you were sorry for liking Nat so much, for drawing a portrait of her and having her be the 'centre of your dreams every night.'" Steve's face turned bright red, but thankfully Clint seemed too into the story to make fun of him about his feverish ramblings. "I was so fucking confused because you had _just_ broken up with Peggy, why the hell were you talking about Natasha?!"

Clint shook his head and then a small smile curled on his lips. "But then I understood. You said _she’s the right partner, Barton, she’s...she’s perfect_. And then I _really_ understood everything. I understood why you got so shitfaced drunk when I told you Natasha started dating some dickhead named Alexei. I understood why you always asked about her, why you always wanted to be around when we’d Skype...” Clint trailed off, not wanting the moment to be _too_ emotional for them. Natasha would come out of the shower any moment and he didn’t want her to find out that his best friend loved her from _his_ mouth. “So, yeah, basically, the answer is yes, man. I’m okay with you wanting to suck the life out of Natasha because there’s no other man in this world that I trust more than you to take care of her.”

Steve nodded; jaw clenched as he tried to keep the jealousy, he felt at Alexei's name being brought up. Out of all the things Clint had said, that was the one that he heard the loudest. He truly was an idiot. “Thank you,” he was quiet, but his voice was earnest.

“And I feel like I shouldn’t have to tell you that if you hurt her, I’ll kill you dead.”

Before Steve can respond, Natasha clears her throat, finally deciding to come out of the shadows. She was happy that Clint was okay with them being...well, whatever they were. They could figure out technicalities later, right now what she wanted was Steve to finish what he had started during breakfast.

“Hey there, you little sinner,” Clint pulled her in for a tight hug, making her squirm until she managed to slip out of his right grasp.

“So...” she cleared her throat, looking between them, “I see you two are in the same room and my kitchen is intact, so it’s safe to assume you’re okay with this?”

She heard him tell Steve, but she didn’t want to tell them that she had heard part of their conversation. That was something between him and Steve and even though she was dying to know about the other half she missed, she came just in time for the good stuff.

“I’m okay as long as you promise not to make me an uncle just yet. I’m the older sibling, I’m supposed to have my shit together.”

“I refuse to wait until you’re dead to have children, Clint.”

Beside her, Steve snorted, arm sliding around her waist as he pulled her to him discreetly. “Did you just-” he stuttered, turning to Steve, “did she just try to _roast_ me?!”

Natasha laughed, turning to Steve and stood on her tiptoes. “Well, since he’s okay with this,” her voice dropped, the sound smoky and seductive, just the way he loved it, “why don’t we finish what we started, soldier?”

“Oh, god,” Clint groaned, “I said I was _okay_ with it happening! Not that I wanted a front-row seat!”

Natasha rolled her eyes, pulling away from Steve to look at him. “This _is_ my home, you know?”

* * *

“You know you can just text me, right? It’s faster.” She grins cheekily at him, but still holds the letters in her hands like they're the most precious things she owns. It might've been a little weird, but this was the closest she could get to touching him for the next few months - and seeing him through a grainy screen just wasn't enough.

“Will you just let me be romantic? Jeez!” He's grinning at her, and the connection makes him freeze a little, and she wonders why the hell he was chosen to cover for someone all the way in freaking Paris.

She thought she could do the whole long-distance relationship thing, but seeing him then, in his uniform, sitting in a hard, plastic chair, bowing his head because the laptop got a better connection in an awkward side of the desk, with his eyes shimmering as he stares at her happily, she realises that it's a little harder than she thought. 

Damn him, she really hates him.

"Miss you," he blurts out after a few seconds, but his voice is cutting off and the screen keeps making his face look distorted.

"Me too," she responds with much more emotion than she wanted. Were her eyes actually _watering_?!

Oh, god.

She couldn't actually _love_ Steve Rogers!

"Have to go soon," he sighs, and the screen freezes just as he runs his fingers through his hair.

Her heart dropped because she thought she would get a bit more time with him. Damn the stupid time zone differences.

"Okay," she nods, trying not to look as disappointed as she felt. 

"Sweet dreams, Bartok."

"Rogers!" She growls, but the anger immediately disappears when she hears his throaty laugh.

Yep.

She freaking loves Steve Rogers.


	5. v. post-lemurian star angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> v. post-lemurian star angst (if they were in a relationship)
> 
> Steve and Natasha have a relationship of sorts, and after their fight over her side-mission at the Lemurian Star, Natasha decides that maybe their arrangement isn't for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought that the idea of SteveNat being together for the fall of HYDRA would've been a good thing to explore, but as I've mentioned before, I'm a wuss when it comes to writing SteveNat in the MCU. Usually, I've seen Natasha being portrayed as someone who isn't happy with the things she's done, and while this version of Natasha isn't happy with her past, she has come to terms with it.
> 
> She doesn't think she's a monster and I wish that had been something we would've explored, but I digress. 
> 
> p.s. read the endnotes.

Nat lets out a sigh as if caving to the idea that what they had really was just a fantasy. She moves away from him, ignoring the way she immediately missed his warmth and starts getting dressed.

“This...” she doesn’t look at him, searching for her jeans and shrugs an arm, sighing again, “well, it was nice while it lasted.”

He frowns, sitting up but she turns her back to him, buckling her bra on. The sheets pool around his waist and he tries to figure out where they went wrong. Sure, he was pissed for what she did at the Lemurian Star, but that didn’t mean that he wanted her to _leave_.

At his questioning look, she swallows and tries her hardest to keep a steady voice. “Most of my time in the Red Room I was a double agent. Guess old habits die hard.”

“Nat-”

“This is for the best.” She nods to herself and tries to convince them both. “It’s easier. I’ll put in for a new partner on Monday.”

Now he’s angry. He throws the sheets off and stands up, not really blocking her way out the door, but still standing in front of it. “So, that’s it? One fight and we’re done?”

She frowns. “That’s not – that’s not _why_ I’m leaving, Steve. I’m leaving because there’s _always_ going to be something that I do that won’t sit well with your morals. I can’t wait for you anymore; I can’t wait for you to catch up to this time.”

“And that’s what you think this is? Me being upset at you for doing your job?”

“Well-”

“I’m upset that I don’t know, Natasha. I’m upset because you could get hurt and I won’t be able to do a goddamn thing because _I don’t know_.” His breathing is heavy and staggered, jaw clenching and face flushed. “I know,” he tried to speak softer, “I know that times are different now, Nat. I know that not everything is white and black. And,” he adds quietly, sincerely, “I know that I can’t survive waking up and realising you’re not there again. I’m not...” his voice chokes out, “I can’t.”

He obviously struck a chord in her because she stops getting dressed. She’s looking at him like it’s the first time she sees him, or maybe she’s looking through him. Her gaze softens and she fights away the urge to just walk away.

“So,” his voice wavers, “please don’t go. I’m not angry that you have a different mission than me, I’m angry that I don’t know if you could be in danger. I know you’re capable, but I can’t help it. It’s who I am. Every day we go out on a mission, I worry about you and I’m also so damn proud to watch you kick ass. I’m not...I’m not asking you to change who you are. I’m asking you to _warn_ me. You don’t even have to give me the details, just warn me.”

Natasha swallows, trying to listen to every word he says, trying to weigh her options. She knows that he’s being sincere, that he’s not just saying words that he knows will stop her from walking out the door.

She _knows_ this – and, she wants so badly to stay with him, cocooned in his arms, safe and warm, but the more she thinks about how the mission went, the more disheartened she feels.

She couldn’t promise him that she would stop following Fury’s orders. She knew that Fury did things his way for a _reason_ and she trusted him – and sure, she trusted Steve with her entire being, but she had joined SHIELD to make the world a better place, and if Fury thought that compartmentalising mission details was best; then who was she to question him?

Sure, she understood Steve’s view. Hell, she’d also be pissed had the roles been reversed, but she’d never tell him that because the roles would _never_ be reversed. Steve was too good for that, trusted her too much to not tell her his plans.

As she pondered her options, Steve tortured himself over her silence.

He was standing there, in the middle of _their_ bedroom, butt-naked, pleading, _begging_ for her not to walk out that door. She was more than just his partner at work, she was literally the centre of his goddamn universe and knowing that she’d walk away was going to break him.

Yet…

If that’s what would make her happy, he’d open the door for her. Because as much as he loved _being_ with her, he loved making her happier more – and from the look on her face, he suspected that maybe he wasn’t making her happy.

“You’re the only person I trust to have my back on the field, so, if,” he gulps because it fucking hurts but if that’s what she wants, he won’t stop her, “if you want to end us, please don’t end our work partnership.”

Her eyes widen for a second and she drops her shirt because she can see all of his emotions playing out on his face like a damn movie – and she hates what she sees. She hates that he thinks she doesn’t want to be with him.

That wasn’t it.

That wasn’t it at all.

What she _didn’t_ want, was to feel guilty because of the grey things she did to make the world a better place. _Someone_ had to get their hands dirty, had to twist _some_ morals to be able to help because as much as she wanted the world to be black and white, there was too much grey in everything they did.

“Steve…” she walks toward him and the way his blue eyes are watering make her feel like she’s been punched in the gut.

He gulps, staring at her like he’s trying to engrave every part of her face into memory. “I promise to be strictly professional. I’ll,” he licks his bottom lip, becoming a tad more desperate to convince her, “I’ll even wear a stupid parachute.”

“You’re fucking insufferable,” she growls and then she’s kissing him, hard and fast. Teeth digging into his lip, sucking and biting and her hands are in his hair, pulling him hard against her.

Steve wraps his arms around her, kissing her just as desperately, savouring her taste like if it was the last time he’d have it. Though their kiss began passionate and lust-filled, it simmered into loving pecks; whispers of love that didn’t need to be spoken.

He presses his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and rubs his thumb against her jaw. Natasha smiles, leaning into his touch and tilts her head to the side to kiss his hand.

“Does that mean you’re staying?” He flashes her a boyish grin and she rolls her eyes, but then looks at him seriously.

“I...” she sighs and pulls back to stare up at him. Her fingers caress his cheek sweetly, “I know who I am, Steve, and I know that part of me still fears that you don’t. That part is always going to want to run away, it’s always going to be afraid that you’re better off without me-”

“Never.” He kisses her fiercely. “I’m always better with you by my side.”

“You cheesy fucker,” she laughs but kisses him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was originally a time travel fic. I don't really remember the full plot, but after being sent back to the 40s, Natasha and Steve fall in love. That's why Natasha says "I can't wait for you anymore; I can't wait for you to catch up to this time." and why Steve says "I can't survive waking up and realising you're not there again."
> 
> As I said, I really don't remember the plot and will probably never write the fic, but I thought I should share a little snippet of how I thought Steve might've handled Natasha's side mission.
> 
> I honestly think he wasn't mad that she was doing her own thing, just that *he* didn't know about it. But maybe that's just me and y'all can totally ignore my weird headcanons lmao
> 
> xx
> 
> i think the next post will be another MCU-based AU, except SteveNat are FWB :D


	6. vi. burlesque dancer & detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> vi. burlesque dancer & detective 
> 
> While trying to take down the man responsible for his best friend's death, Detective Steve Rogers, finds himself falling for the beautiful Burlesque dancer, Natasha Romanoff - the one who also happens to be his informant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favourite AUs. I love everything that comes with it, but I'll share these two scenes. 
> 
> Natasha works at the Red Room, a burlesque club, where she's one of the most coveted dancers. Though, her first encounter with Detective Steve Rogers wasn't the most ideal (he threatened to get a warrant for her arrest over a parking ticket that she had already paid!) she can't help but feel drawn to the man. 
> 
> His tough exterior is just that, a facade, because, underneath all the roughness and lets-get-straight-to-business attitude, he's a man that's passionate about more than just work. He's shown her just how passionate he can be plenty of nights and if she can just get him to take down her freaking boss, then she might just give him more than a bed to lay on.

Steve nursed his whiskey while he watched her dance. She was graceful and sultry, leaping and twisting with confidence and allure. As he watched her dance, he understood why so many people were captivated by the Russian dancer.

He had watched her before and he’d seen plenty of very provocative routines, yet, every time felt like he was watching her for the very first time. 

“Don’t do that.”

Steve frowned and turns to Sam with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t do what?”

“That face.”

“What face?”

“The puppy in love face!” He scoffs, taking a sip of his drink before turning back to his partner.

“What-”

“Man,” he interrupts, holding his hand up, “don’t lie to me. It’s all over your face. You’re looking at her like she created the universe.”

Steve rolls his eyes, shifting on his stool uncomfortably as he looks away from Sam. His eyes drift back to Natasha and he feels ensnared once more. “She’s a beautiful dancer.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a hint of mockery in his tone, “and she’s gonna be a pile of paperwork if you keep looking at our _informant_ that way.”

“S’not like that,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he brings the rim of his cup of to his lips.

“It is _so_ like that!”

Once her routine was over, Natasha leaned forward and blew a kiss to the audience before winking and disappearing behind the stage. Steve tries his hardest not to smile, but the way her eyes drift to him momentarily definitely fills his head with all the ideas that Sam keeps insinuating.

“No,” Sam shakes his head, “nanana! She’s looking at you like that too!”

Steve had no idea what he was talking about, but he was gonna hide his smirk behind his whiskey and ignore Sam’s advice.

* * *

Steve really hates the idea of leaving her alone after the night they shared. His body was beginning to feel the effects of spending most of his night trapped between her legs and pinning her to any surface she’d let him have her on.

There were obviously no regrets about their night, but now that he was getting dressed, he was regretting answering his phone that early.

Natasha was turned on her side, with her long hair spread on her pillowcase and a peaceful look on her face. This was probably the first time he’d seen her with her walls down and not the smirk he had grown to love so much.

The soft glow from the little bit of moonlight he’ll have left illumines her back and he has to force himself to button his shirt and tuck it in, so that he doesn’t begin kissing her skin, and crawls back into her bed.

He closes his eyes momentarily, feeling his body tense as he remembers the warmth that enveloped him while he slept next to her. How peaceful that dream was and how good it felt to have the weight of her hand over his arm.

_Damn Sam for calling him in._

When Natasha realizes that he’s not in bed with her anymore, she promptly wakes up and stays quiet, just watching as he moves around her room, trying to get dressed quietly.

She stretches, yawning a bit as she does so and slides her leg out of the satin sheets and stares up at him. “Didn’t peg you for the hitting-it-and-sneaking-out kinda guy, Detective.”

  
He chuckles, looking over his shoulders at her as he adjusts his shoulder holsters. “S’not what I’m doing.”

  
“What?” Her voice is low and sultry and when she speaks, her lips pout a little, just teasing him. “Was the entertainment not good enough?”  
  
He turns around, crawling back into bed and gently kisses her, ignoring the way she’s trying to push his buttons by calling herself _entertainment._ “Not used to guys leaving your bed without saying goodbye?”  
  
“Well,” she shrugs, her voice a little breathless from the kiss he just gave her, “I’m usually the one sneaking out,” she slides her hand over his chest, smirking when she feels how quick its beating, “or I kick them out.”  
  
“I got called into work.” He kisses her again, his lips brushing over hers softly and he adjusts his weight over her as to not crush her. “I was planning on leaving you a note explaining my absence because I thought you were sleeping and I didn’t wanna bother you.”  
  
“What a gentleman,” she susurrates, encircling her arms around his broad shoulders to pull him down on her. He’s trying not to crush her, but that’s all she wants. She loves the weight of him over her, loves how heavy and warm he feels – and she won’t admit it, but she loves how safe he makes her feel.

Steve chuckles, cupping her cheek and brushes his hand down the side of her neck as he kisses her deeply.

  
When he kisses her this time, there’s no gentleness or any indication of him wanting to tease her. His teeth tug her bottom lip and she lets out a soft groan, hoping that she can coax him back into bed.  
  
His voice is hoarse when he speaks, deep, with a low timbre, and his lips brush against hers again. “I really want to stay.” Before he pulls away, he nips at her lip and tugs at it gently, making her shiver.

“There’s really no way I can convince you to stay?” She hates that she sounds so needy, but after the night they shared, she was hoping for a few morning rounds. She was finding that Steve Rogers was absolutely addictive and she would wait until she was fully awake to determine whether that was a good or bad thing.

He sighs, kissing her one last time and closes his eyes to savour the feel of her lips against his. “Sam will kill me if I don’t show up. But,” he smiles sweetly and lightly brushes his thumb against her bottom lip, “if you’re free tonight, I can stop by.”

He hates how his heart swells when she smiles at him and nods. “I’ll be done at the Red Room by 9, so…” she tilts her head to the side, sliding her leg up his arm, “if you’re willing to stop by…”

His phone buzzes in his pants and he grunts, standing up from the bed because he knows that if he stays near her a second longer, he’ll have to spend the rest of his week buying Sam lunch and dinner. “I’ll stop by. Have a good day,” he leans down to kiss her again (who was he kidding when he said it would be one last kiss?) “and go back to sleep.”

“So bossy,” she purrs, smiling.

Steve laughs quietly, rolling his eyes and grabs his keys from her dresses before stepping over her shredded lingerie from the night before. “Sleep well, Natasha.”

“See you tonight, Detective.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd post the FWB AU next, but I didn't find the snippets that I wanted to share, so that may have to be stored for a much later time lol sorry! Hope you enjoyed this 'verse nonetheless! xx

**Author's Note:**

> I took the plunge. I have a million scenes that I wrote for my favourite OTP that I haven't published because I'm an idiot that can't write one-shots without wanting to turn them into huge things. 
> 
> So, I decided to post this to share scenes I've written because I got encouraged by a really amazing person (love you Beca) and yeah. These are mostly unedited, but I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> xx


End file.
